The Sewing shop

LISA BANKS: The Sewing shop crime
It was 1910 when our family moved from the parish in Limerick, Ireland. To the big city streets of New York City where the buildings like huge barriers stood at each bustling city street. We arrived early morning on the ship over many nights on the soaring ocean. My family was told it would be two weeks West across the Atlantic before we’d see Miss America herself standing proud and tall. Ma and Pa waited to come to America after Jim my Pa’s favorite brother came to this land a few years ago. With all the good words he has written in many letters about the new life he had given himself in America, Pa knew he wanted to make something of himself like his brother.

The air was salty when we arrived it reminded me of our home in Ireland but it was also so awful because everywhere I looked people stood. I had never seen so many people in my life in one area trying to escape Ellis Island into the new land. Surrounding my body pushing, screaming and crying, people tried to get through to get a glimpse of Lady Liberty. We were finally in America. I waited so long I dreamed for many nights of all the good things that I would see at my new home. It was everything and nothing of what I expected from all the things people had told me. America was bigger though it in the distance it was bigger than Ireland. I heard my Ma call out Maureen Reagan come, come now. So I went toward her so I wouldn’t disappoint her already my first step in America. She had all our belongings gathered in our trunk and luggage before the crowd came pushing for their things. All of the passengers went through the walkways off the crowded ship, which lead us to a man, who told my family to go to the examiner to get our eyes, ears, and body check. He spoke to everyone as if he was better than us. Very quickly and loudly like I didn’t understand the words that were coming out of his mouth. “ You little girl stand in that like quickly, you’re holding up the line.” I almost went off on him but Ma nudged me in my rib so I wouldn’t get kicked out of America because of my mouth the I would normally do if I was in Ireland.

As soon as my family got checked into Ellis Island and picked up by Uncle Jim he told Pa that he needed to get a job as well as my eight brothers and I. So I went out on the long streets of New York City the morning after we arrived looking for new life. Many people had lunches in their hands walking to work, school, and breakfast. They wore dresses pink, purple, and green flower prints with huge hats that Ma would say was unnecessary for the day. I called myself Maureen Reagan when introducing myself to all the business workers proud to be a Reagan and had made it to America. I remember looking for my new job it was hard to find somebody who didn’t make a comment about potatoes or tell me to I was ninny for coming to America and complaining I needed a job for support. But after many hours of walking up and down the streets like the lost child wild eyed and crazy, I saw a fun looking down town shop with my girls like myself working. Most of the girls had smiles on their faces talking with one another some dressed well while others dressed like I had that day. From what I could see through the huge windows that seemed to air the buildings it looked like a good place to find work. They were sewing dresses just like Ma does at night beside the warm fire after dinner before we all went off to bed all eight of us packed in one room like sardines. That memory of the bad points of Ireland clouded my mind reminding me why I came for a job in America. I knew I would be able to find work there because I had experience when watching and trying to help Ma with the many dresses she had made me over my 17 years of life. Walking into the doors I could smell the odor of women sweating and the fabric’s odor flowing through the factory. By this time I knew this is where my start would be in America. As I walked passed all the girls they snickered at me it was as if I had a sign on my back saying just arrived in America I have no job. They weren’t speaking in English it was all different languages. They boss was in his office towered above the women working behind a glass wall and balcony to look off of.
The boss a fat man, looked like an unpleasant version of Saint Nick. His thick beard moved when he spoke side by side his beard swayed. Inside of the building the air was warmer than I imagined since many of the windows were large and open. Walking through the open doors many girls smiled, enormous patterns for dresses laid out on many open tables in front of what seemed like hundreds of young girls. All I had to do was prove to him that I could sew a dress. I sat down next to a girl giggling at the pattern I was given. Though it was thick and hard to work with I manage. The fat man spoke to me within five minutes. He told me I got the job start today and be here first thing in the morning. My first days were lovely I was proud to be working like a good person does for himself or herself. Each day I came to work in a pleasant mood willing to sew any beautiful material into a dress that I rich white girl would buy to go to a fancy dinner with her family. Through out the months of working my money began to increase I finally earned money to buy myself what I needed then soon my wants came and I could pay for those things too. With the material I didn’t use I could sneak home some fabric if the boss wasn’t watching over us like a hawk. The dress I made myself was beautiful a deep rose color. The silk fabric lacing down my back and the matching hat I bought immediately made everyone who saw me in it tell me my eyes stood out and my skin look like a china doll when I wore my newly sewn dress. After a whole year of hard long labor we were given the opportunity to finally have a raise the fat man explained how we would have money to have apartments in the sky, nice clothes and maybe even a buy our lunch daily.
The day we were supposed to be given the raise it was stormy outside. Hell had come down the clouds were thick full of rain, lightning crashed down out of the dark clouds. Every girl came to work that day except me. I couldn’t make it out of my apartment the rain was too thick to see in front of my face. That day I knew I wouldn’t receive my raise if he realized I wasn’t at work. But the next morning the front page said. “ Yesterday the sewing shop girls were engulfed in flames… every girl died.” Shocked of news I wonder how in the storm the girls had been torched. Something was fishy about the entire news coverage. How we were supposed to have a raise but everyone died. Many years passed and I always wonder how that day all the girls during a rainstorm died. Other people in the town began to question as well as I the disturbing news of the sewing shop. It turned out that the sewing shop crime was planned so that the fat man wouldn’t have to pay for the work that the girls did for him.

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